Foundation
by Honestly tell me a lie
Summary: T to be safe. She sighed, and finished her makeup before exiting the room. The blue stilettos she wore clicked on the marble floors of the train station. If only she knew what the train ride held in store. Oneshot!


Okay, so this is another one of my one-shots. Set in the future, 8 years? Something along those lines. Lets go with they're both over 20:D.

I apologize in advance for the ending, if it offends anyone.

Read ahoy!

* * *

Left foot, right, left, right. She stared at her dragging feet. A large duffel bag was slung lazily over her right shoulder, 100 or so dollars stuffed in her jeans pocket. A dazed, confused, inappropriate smile was plastered on her porcelain face. Her beaten, battered, neglected face. Her cheeks were raw from tears, lips red from biting, eyes seemed to be in a haze. Her clothes were torn and tattered, rags of a sort. She stopped to look up at the subway map which lingered before her, pointing to her destination before turning left on her heels.

As she trudged along, she paid no mention to the people strutting past her. She took a sharp left at the sight of a ladies restroom, entering an unoccupied stall to her right. Moments later, she reappeared in the empty room, a low cut cocktail dress hugging her before hidden curves. The black dress was trimmed with blue lace, the straps thin enough to be cut off with one snip. A blue flower surrounded by leaves of green hung around her neck, drawing attention to the low neckline. As she covered the bruises on her pretty face, she looked in the mirror at the woman standing behind her, staring at the bruises littered on her face.

She sighed, and finished her makeup before exiting the room. The blue stilettos she wore clicked on the marble floors of the train station. Approaching the ticket booth, she straightened out her dress. Striking up a small conversation, she bought her tickets and made her way to the tracks. With time to kill, she opened her compact mirror, applying fire engine red lipstick to her lips. Her eyes diverted from the reflection to the train, as it screeched to a stop. She moved with the crowd as they filtered into the rooms, taking the first window seat she could find.

Opening the nearest magazine, she scanned the pages quickly, until a figure sat down next to her. Prying her eyes from the page, she stole a glance at the man. Dark brown hair, light brown eyes, dressed in a grey pinstriped suit. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

She cleared her throat, "I, uh, am going to change seats if I may," She began to stand, but was stopped as the train began to move. She silently cursed her luck as she fell back down into her seat. The man looked at her, and smiled.

"Why, miss, do I make you uncomfortable?" He raised an eyebrow, and reached for the business magazine sitting in her lap.

She was fuming, "Yes, indeed you do, monsieur. Now if you would be so kind I would like to," she turned to look at the man, face to face. As their eyes connected, the realization of who he was made her shrink back into her seat.

He looked away, and with a shaky voice he spoke, "I, I see you are doing well," From the corner of his eye he could see her head nodding vigorously.

"Yes, yes, everything is going swell!" Her voice was strained, and the man could sense something wasn't right. "And you too don't look so bad yourself," the man nodded as well, glancing over at the woman beside him.

A long silence followed, the two adults too overwhelmed to speak. On impulse he spoke, "Do you have a boyfriend?" He swore under his breathe, how could he be so stupid?

She blurted out an answer, "No! I mean, yes, yes." She looked in the window cautiously; making sure her makeup still hid the black and blue marks on her face. "We've, ah, been together for almost a year," she struggled to form every sentence, "Things are great, we, we're living together now." She cringed, knowing how fake she sounded. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I, I haven't been able to find anyone since," He could see her face through the corner of his eye, "You." Her head whipped around to look at him, her eyes no longer glazed over. Instead, they carried a look of shock.

Her voice was low, "Ulrich, I," He put a finger to her lips, cupping the side of her face with his other hand. She flinched, and he jerked his hand away, fingertips now covered with foundation. Before he could speak, she interrupted, "No Ulrich, just, don't." With that, the train stopped. Yumi stood, and he grabbed her hand.

"At least tell me where you're going," he was pleading; the last thing he wanted was to see her get hurt.

"To drink away the pain."

* * *

AN:Like I said before, I'm sorry if this ending offends anyone. It was either that or "To see you," and I thought that was too expected…x.o.

Review please :).


End file.
